


Vixen

by Octarine



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Black Romance, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Crack Pairing, Drabble, F/M, Random Pairing Generator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-17 02:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octarine/pseuds/Octarine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She smirks wickedly, leaning in closer, warm breath heavy and uncomfortable against your skin. “Make me,” she purrs, and you must restrain yourself. You just don’t know if you want to harm her or kiss her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vixen

**Author's Note:**

> I have a new otp. Oops. I don't think I did it justice though. :(

You are very worried about Rosy.

When you ask John about it he only rolls his eyes, brushing you off with a “Dad! Rose is fine, geez! Mom is really sweet.” It doesn’t help; you don’t like that word being associated with this woman in your son’s eyes. It only makes you frown, try to get him to take Rose some cookies, maybe a cake, the next time he goes to his little girlfriend’s house (“She’s not my girlfriend! Oh my god!”) but he never does. So, instead, you can usually talk him into inviting her, if not all of his friends, over to your home instead. Rose is more than happy to leave home, something that does not go unnoticed, nor does the mad weaving of her car when her mother drops her off and the slurred coos of “Be gooood Rosy!”.

So, it is very understandable for you to be worried about the girl, you were worried about David too, but, it turns out, the tales of his wild older brother gave you the wrong impression and his brother is not as bad as you once thought. Dirk is actually very well read, you’ve found, and he legitimately cares for his brother; the few bruises and cuts are just boys being boys, not signs of an abusive home life.

But Rose is different, mentions of her mother all receive truly bitter responses, not the same disgruntled frustration Dave will sometimes talk about his brother with. You worry about her, you really do, and the first time you met her, Ms. Lalonde, in person your worries were simply reinforced.

She had strutted up to your front door; arm wrapped tight around a very stiff Rose, and a stench you easily recognized hanging in the air. She had on a ridiculous pair of high-heels and a too-tight dress to go with her black lips and thick lashes. You could see that Rose takes after her mother, blond hair and fair skin, and the same teasing smile. “Mr. Egbert!” She had reached out to take your hand, a tight grip even though she has such dainty little hands. She had those horrible fake nails, too. Her smile turned into something more sinful and she had leaned forward, eyes lidded.

Poor little Rose looked horrified at this, hissing at her mother and pulling her back. “Thank you, _mother_ , it was so very nice of you to walk me all the way up here… I could have been plucked from their yard by some monster, I’m sure no one in this lovely little neighborhood would have noticed.”

“Aw, I love you baby girl!” She had giggled, pulling her into a suffocating hug, and then she was ushered back to her car, not before sending a wink in your direction, though, and then she was speeding off. Rose had apologized profusely and you had shushed her, pulling her into a tight, fatherly, hug before guiding her into the house.

Ever since then you have hated this woman, this woman that is such a horrible role model, who does not deserve to be called a mother. And here, in your kitchen, leaned against your counter, licking icing from her finger and fluttering her lashes at you, you think you hate her even more. She smirks at you, wicked and seductive, and you wish you could say she was repulsive; that with all of her horrible qualities her beauty did not strike you, but that would be a lie. And you think that makes you hate her more, if that’s even possible. But, more than that, you hate that you cannot take Rose from her care.

“Ms. Lalonde,” you say, before you can loose your nerve. “Have you ever thought about giving up Rose?”

She does a double take, shock replacing that horrible expression. “Give up Rosy?” She asks, sounding shocked. “What are you talking about?” There’s a note of desperation slipping into her voice and somehow making her grow so upset makes you feel a bit better yourself. But when this sinks in you feel horrible all over again.

“You don’t care for her the way you should,” you snap and she rears back.

“I take perfectly good care of her! She’s my daughter!” She cries, shrill and angry. “I love her!”

“Then stop drinking!” You hiss back, surprising yourself. It’s not like you to act so rudely but you have reached your breaking point. “Stop drinking and prove that you love her more than your _alcohol_ ,” you continue, “prove that you have some self control! That you aren’t completely selfish!”

Her face is flushed and her jaw tight as she snatches her coat and purse from the counter. “Rosy!” She calls sharply and you grab her wrist, keeping her from leaving.

“You are angry and under the influence of alcohol, _still_ , let the girl stay here.” You growl.

“Like hell I will!” She spits back, tearing from your grasp just as Rose and Jade appear in the doorway, Jade pouting and Rose simply annoyed. “Rose!” Her mother barks, grabbing her by the sleeve of her dress. “We’re leaving!”

Rose looks shocked by this, so does Jade, and you immediately feel a pang of guilt. “Wait, Ms. Lalonde, please wait.”

She turns on you as you draw closer and scowls. “What?”

“Let her stay here for the night.” You say again, calmer now, the wide-eyed look on Rose’s face urging you to be civil.

She smirks wickedly, leaning in closer, warm breath heavy and uncomfortable against your skin. “Make me,” she purrs, and you must restrain yourself. You just don’t know if you want to harm her or kiss her.

“Ms. Lalonde,” you hiss back.

“Mother,” Rose tries but is ignored, causing another flare of anger.

“I’m sorry Rose, perhaps you should go back into the other room with the others.” You tell her but the words are meant for John too, who is now peering into the room with Dave, both curious and a little confused too. Rose slips from her mother’s grasp with a little jerk and you see, out of the corner of your eye, Dave pulling Jade into the other room, too. Her mother doesn’t look happy about this either, but does not object. “Let her stay here,” you insist.

“I’ll never give her up,” she says defiantly, almost like a child. She really is like a child.

“Just let me take care of her for a while,” you say gently. “Perhaps she could stay here while you get some help with your problem.”

“It’s not a _problem_ ,” she snaps back, finally turning towards the door once more. “I’ll be back tomorrow to pick her up,” she says, giving you a pointed look, then she’s leaning into the other room, blowing the others kisses and telling them “Bye-bye, I’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up Rosy! You behave for Mr. Egbert, now. Love you sweetie!” in a singsong voice. She waves one last time, smiling brightly, then she turns to you, warmth vanishing as she glares on her way out the door.

You realize you may have just made a fatal mistake.


End file.
